Nearly every second Thursday is my time for a trim and touch up of my gray roots. Yes. Gray. I use to look in the mirror and see dark roots but no longer.
I love the lady who fixes my hair. (In the South, we use the word fix a lot. E.g., I'm fixing to go to the store. I'm fixing supper now. I'm fixing to shoot you if you don't get out of my yard.) Anyway, not only do I love this woman because she's so talented, but because she jokes with me and never acts surprised or embarrassed when I say something risqué. She's so much fun and I'm lucky my friend, Sande, introduced me to her.
Side note about the blog: I guess you noticed I'm not blogging every day. I still have a lot to say, but I decided to not push myself in blogging that often. If I have something to say, good. If I don't, I'm not beating up myself. I'll probably still blog most days than not. I just figured I place enough pressures on myself and this one isn't as important.